MOTOR MATT'S TEN-STRIKE.
Josh hustled for the runabout. One of the coiled ropes Matt had put in
the car was hanging over a lamp, and the other had been thrown into the
road. Taking the one off the lamp, the boy hurried back to the place
where Matt was training the revolver on Spangler.
"Fine bizness!" laughed Josh. "Wot d'yous want me t' do, Matt? Put a
bow-knot on his lunch-hooks?"
"Stand up, Spangler!" ordered Matt.
Spangler got lamely to his feet. He was still confused and bewildered.
"Somethin' hit us," he mumbled. "From the way I was throwed it must hev
been a landslide. Whar's Hank? Is he killed?"
"Brisco will get along, I guess," said Matt. "Put your hands behind
you, Spangler."
Just then, for the first time, it began to dawn on Spangler that Matt
was making a prisoner out of him. The ruffian, although practically
uninjured, had been badly shaken up. Nevertheless, he was in condition
to resist, and he leaped backward, swearing.
"If ye think ye kin rope, down an' tie me," he cried, "jest bekase that
thar machine bucked an' dumped me inter the road, ye got another----"
"Come this way!" cut in Matt.
The words, hard and keen, jumped at Spangler like so many knife-points.
Motor Matt meant business, and showed it in every movement.
Spangler stepped forward.
"That's far enough," snapped Matt. "Now put those hands behind you."
With the open end of his own gun staring him in the face, there was
nothing for Spangler to do but to obey. His hands went meekly behind
him.
"Can you tie a good hard knot, Josh?" asked Matt.
"T'ink I ain't good f'r nuttin'?" protested the boy.
Passing behind Spangler, he used the free end of the rope for a few
moments and then stepped back with the rest of the coil in his hands.
"If he gits dem mitts out o' dat he's a good 'un," announced Josh.
"W'ere d'yous want him, Matt?"
"In the Red Flier. Step lively, Spangler. We've got to look after
Brisco."
"Get ap!" clucked Josh, shaking the rope.
With a black scowl on his face, the baffled Spangler made his way to
the touring-car.
"Get in on the back seat," went on Matt.
Spangler obeyed the order.
"Now, Josh," pursued Matt, "cut the rope and tie a piece of it around
his feet."
The boy finished the work expeditiously, and when he and Matt drew
away from the Red Flier they left Spangler helpless and fuming in the
tonneau.
Brisco was still lying where he had fallen, and he was still
unconscious. Matt made a more thorough examination of him. His pulse
was stronger and, so far as Matt could discover, there were no broken
bones.
"Wot keeps 'im in a trance?" asked the boy. "He's stayin' a long time
in de Land o' Nod for not havin' nuttin' wrong wit' 'im."
"Pick up his revolver, Josh," returned Matt briskly, "and then sit down
beside him and wait till he gets his wits back. Don't let him get away
from you."
"Get away from me? Not on yer life, cull. I'd radder take dis mutt into
Fairview dan pull down a t'ousan' in de long green. Dad wants _him_."
Paying no attention to the boy's rather obscure remark, Matt went to
the runabout. He was expecting to find the machine badly smashed, and
was happily disappointed.
Both front lamps were broken, and the mud-guard over the right wheel
forward had been ripped away. The guard had fallen between the wheel
and the rock, and undoubtedly had kept the wheel from being dished. The
tire was punctured and the jolt had disabled the motor. For all that,
however, the machine, with a few temporary repairs, could travel on its
own wheels if not under its own power.
Brisco had not yet corralled his wits. Aided by Josh, Matt dragged the
man off to one side, where he would be out of the way; then, cutting
about six feet of rope from the other riata, he threw it down where
Josh could get at it.
"When Brisco wakes up, Josh," said Matt, "just hold him steady till we
put that rope on him."
"Wot yous goin' t' do, Matt?" inquired the wondering Josh. "Yous is
busier dan a monkey wit' his hand in a coconut."
"We're going to haul the runabout into Fairview," said Matt. "But I've
got to patch her up first."
Getting into the Red Flier, Matt backed her as close to the disabled
car as he could; then, hitching onto the runabout with the ropes, he
pulled it down onto the level plain.
With a jack taken from the touring-car he swung the runabout's wheel
off the ground. The mud-guard, having been ripped off, was not in
his way. After locating the puncture and marking it with chalk, he
unscrewed the wing-nuts, pushed out the security-bolt, and then, with
levers, dug out the inner tube.
Perhaps he was an hour getting the hole patched up, tire back in place
and reinflated. When he was through, the runabout was ready to be
dragged to Fairview.
"How's Brisco?" asked Matt, putting on his leather coat, which he had
thrown off while working with the runabout.
"Same as wot he was, cull," replied Josh. "He ain't twitched an
eye-winker."
"He may be shamming," said Matt, "in the hope of making a bolt for his
liberty. We'll put him in the tonneau. You can ride with him and watch
him every minute. I'll take Spangler in front with me."
"We're goin' t' take de hull outfit into Fairview?" grinned Josh.
"That's the idea."
"A whale of an idee it is, too, an' no stringin'. Reg'lar line-up o'
crooks an' stolen automobiles, wit' Motor Matt in charge o' de bunch.
Wow! It's de biggest come-easy dat I ever mixed up wit'. Mebby dere
won't be rejoicin' w'en we goes pokin' into town wit' all dis load.
Well, I guess yes."
Between them, Matt and Josh succeeded in carrying Brisco to the
touring-car and getting him into the tonneau.
Spangler, having been transferred to one of the front seats, had been
chewing the cud of reflection.
"Looky here, Motor Matt," said he, "ye ain't got no call ter kerry me
ter Fairview. Think o' Klegg, down an' out an' mebby dyin' back thar in
that notch. If anythin' happens ter him ye'll be responsible. Better
turn me loose an' let me go back an' take keer o' him."
"Don't do so much worrying over Klegg," answered Matt. "I intend to
have him looked after. Just as soon as we get to Fairview I'll have the
sheriff, or some other officer, go to the notch and see that Klegg gets
all the attention he deserves."
"Waal, even at that, ye ain't got no call ter lug me inter town. I
ain't done a thing. Brisco was the feller that had it in fer you. It's
him ye want ter git even with, an' not me."
"You didn't have a hand in robbing Mr. Tomlinson, did you?" said Matt
sarcastically. "There are a lot of other things you've done, too,
and I'm going to turn you over to Lem Nugent, the man who owns the
runabout, as soon as we reach Fairview. It won't take long to get
Nugent up from Ash Forks."
"Yous is a game loser, I don't t'ink," scoffed the boy. "W'ere's yer
nerve, Spangler?"
"Say," said Spangler, giving his attention to Josh, "where did you butt
inter this game?"
"I rode out o' Fairview wit' Brisco," grinned Josh. "He give me a ride."
"Give ye a ride?" echoed Spangler.
"Sure, on'y he didn't know it. I was under de coat in de back o' de
runabout; an' I was still dere w'en yous mutts went t' dat hole in de
wall. 'Course yous didn't see me. Yous was too mad at Motor Matt t' see
anyt'ing."
The whole situation rushed over Spangler with demoralizing clearness.
He was able to understand how Josh and Matt, by the exercise of pluck
and brains, had succeeded in balking the plans of Brisco.
Spangler swore heartily. It seemed to be his only method for easing his
feelings.
"The worst move we ever made," he muttered savagely, "was takin' Motor
Matt out o' town last night. I didn't want ter do it, but Brisco had
made up his mind, an' that settled it. We ain't got no one ter blame
but ourselves fer what's happened. Go on. The quicker we git ter
Fairview an' hev this thing over with, the better I'll be suited."
Spangler, resigning himself to the situation, sank back in his seat.
Matt went around to the rear of the car to make the ropes attaching it
to the runabout more secure. As near as he had been able to discover
there was a level road all the way to Fairview. They were coming into
the town from the north and east, and not along the Ash Fork road,
where there was a hill to be descended in order to reach the valley.
Having reassured himself about the ropes, Matt returned to the side of
the Red Flier and mounted the running-board. Looking over the side of
the tonneau, he swept his gaze over Brisco's unconscious face.
"I can't understand what keeps him that way, Josh," said Matt.
"Mebby he's badly shook up inside," answered the boy. "Wot he needs is
a doctor."
"Well, he'll have one before long. Stay right beside him and watch him
every minute. If he's playing possum with us, we want to make sure he
don't gain anything by it."
"I'm right on de job," said Josh.
Matt climbed into his seat and started on the low gear. There was a
creaking of the ropes as they took the pull, and the runabout started.
Everything worked smoothly, and Matt, with a load worth fifteen hundred
dollars, set his face toward Fairview.